


Devil Like You

by Ribbonshalos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Jesse McCree, F/M, Flirts, Talon Sombra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 23:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbonshalos/pseuds/Ribbonshalos
Summary: McCree is trying to do his job but he keeps getting distracted by the enemy.





	Devil Like You

“McCree, get around them, we’ll attack from all sides,” Reyes bark. Peeking over a stone wall, a few bullets take off the corner of McCree’s cover. He reloads and looks to the alleyway down to his right.

“Ya really like giving me the tough jobs, don’t ya?” he answers through his commlink, flicking the cylinder back into place.

“Get over there, now!” he shouts over a chorus of rifle and shotgun fire.

Tightening his jaw, McCree rolls from his cover. Shurikens cover his race into alleyway with sharp precision and a few grunts of pain. Once there, McCree draws his flashbang. He’ll go around the other end of the street, taking the Talon agents by surprise. These close quarters work in his favor. An lurking enemy will be blinded and dead in seconds.

McCree slips around no man’s land and into Talon’s swarming side. Another alleyway leads him into cover. Crouching, McCree takes in the street dividing Blackwatch and Talon. Reyes and Moira are working together, stopping anyone from advancing over to their section while Genji is dashing towards a sniper perch. He can’t hear her scream, but he knows Genji’s blade is faster then her gun.

He reaches for his commlink, his lips parted to inform Reyes that they’re mission is about to end soon.

Purple wires spring into his flashbang. Footsteps echo just behind him but by the time he twists and throws it, the flashbang is useless. Sombra grins, looking to the broken tool with a sharp, arching brow.

“ _Vaquero_ , I can hear your spurs a mile away,” she continues her slow approach. The white armor and black details of her suit are unbearably Talon’s design, but her red dipped hair is all her own. “Reyes wanted to be cute by sending you in while keeping all eyes on the ninja,  _ha_.”

McCree’s peacekeeper levels at her chest, steady in his hand as he tilts his hat back.

“Ya could just make this easy on me and put yer gun down. I don’t like shootin’ a lady,” he drawls. The lower tone of his voice gives away his hidden plea. Sombra’s sharp eyes remain unblinking, cutting him through like the blade on the end of her gun.

“Aw, how gentlemanly,” she coos, slipping her armed hand over his shoulder and pressing herself against his chest. To fit against her, McCree still grips his peacekeeper tightly, but drapes it over her back. As if magnetic, his other hand comes to her waist.

She breathes against his skin, toying him with her cheeky grin and alluring gaze of future regret. He’s already known her body, but that was before they were agents of different ideas. This is a taunt, another mistake, but he can’t resist temptation.

He smashes his mouth against hers, a landslide shaking the mountain. The taste is an easy remembrance. Foxglove and softness. A hidden meadow within the shadows. She throws herself against him, a river crashing against his rib cage and lungs. Her current has already dragged him into the depths.

There is only her mouth, playing with his again and again. Her tongue sneaks against his lips, tasting his teeth. A soft moan leaves him. A bite from her teeth nibbles at his lip, pulling away before rushing back.

He’s a fool. A sinner giving into the devil.

If this is hell, he could live with that.

They part, gasping like hungry, ravaged souls. For a weak moment, he touches through her short hair.

“You’re going to give me away, Jesse,” she says, breathless. Pulling back, her gun drags over his shoulder before facing into his chest again. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“Sombra.” McCree doesn’t raise his gun. “This has to stop.”

A short laugh escapes her throat.

“You say that every time,” she says, gesturing with silver fingertips, “and yet…”

“Yer not exactly helping with this,” he shoots off, angry at the red symbol on her shoulder.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she almost pouts, lowering her voice.

“Sombra,” he breathes. This may be jeopardizing everything they have plan in the coming week, but the heat from her kiss still lingers on his lips.

“Where are ya going to be the next couple of days?” he asks. His gaze shifts to the quiet alleyway, but they are absolutely alone.

Her expression slips into an unreadable slate. Sharp eyes pierce only through him.

“This talk of work isn’t very enticing, Jesse,” she warns.

One of the quiet agreements they share is to not demand information about the other’s affiliation. Another one is never speaking about their little antics during a very active mission.

But Venice will not be something where he can be distracted by Sombra. If it goes wrong, bullets will fill the air like oxygen. There is no telling who and what will be there. Zero hesitation and zero mistakes will be allow.

If he comes face to face with her, or Genji or Moira or Reyes are toe to toe with her, they will do their job.

Just like she’ll do hers.

“I just need to know,” he demands.

He steps closer to her and the gun between them.

“Please.”

Her brow hardens. Something passes through her sharp eyes. If he’s crossing the line, more than usual, she’s always stepping over it before he. Lowering her gun, she looks him over. A lighter expression hides her difficult decision.

“Far away,  _vaquero_. That’s all you need to know,” she gives.

He breathes out, letting his shoulders lower. One less thing to worry about while heading for Antonio.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Her chin jerks upwards in acknowledgement. Turning on the balls of her feet, Sombra lifts her gun to let it rest against her shoulder. As she walks away, she throws her voice back to him.

“Oh, McCree, I wouldn’t use your commlink. It might explode.”

He swears as he pulls it from his ear. Crushing the purple infected wires under his boot, it shatters with ease.

When he looks up, she’s gone. The only mark of her presence is the poisonous foxglove left in his chest.


End file.
